Great Power Gambits

[Rugs]

The thunderstorm that shook Soldon overnight was gone as sunrise broke over the city. Light rain, drifting in between a heavy drizzle and a windblown misting, clung stubbornly to the area and was forecast to drag on for days.

While much of the city still slept, the Galactic District — home to the embassies of the Sith Empire and the Galactic Republic and to the Galactic Hall itself — was very much alive.

Alder Vrieska sat in the back of a sleek black speeder that zipped over the broad river bisecting Soldon. The Supreme Chancellor watched the great river roll placidly by below, his mind occupied with a thousand different thoughts going in a thousand different directions.

“We’ll be setting down in two minutes, sir.”

Alder nodded absentmindedly to the driver. “Thank you.”

Today, after months of waiting and hard preparation, the leaders of the Republic and Empire would once again descend upon the Galactic Hall, once again with the fate of the broader Galaxy hanging in the balance. Today marked the beginning the arbitration Empress Renata demanded after rogue Republic officers turned on their Sith allies at the Battle of Nar Shaddaa.

The city swarmed with influential figures from both of the superpowers. The rich and powerful flocked to Prazhi, as if this were all a performance of the latest drama, and not a very real, very serious matter that could spell death for billions of people.

The Galactic Hall was as elegant and beautiful as ever, despite the day’s dreary weather. The broad, curved windows overlooking the main entryway were filled with people bustling to and fro — security, making final sweeps, and the seemingly limitless teams of lawyers both sides had deployed to prepare for the proceedings.

The courtyard itself was board and round, lined on one side with trees brought in from Coruscant and trees imported from Dromund Kaas on the other. A tall fountain stood in its heart, with water rising from the center and spilling down a series of ever-widening steps made from stone imported from worlds across the Republic and Empire.

Last we were here, we sought to band together to avoid catastrophe. It seemed impossible at the time, at that the arch-enemies could forge an alliance to face down the Archeri threat. It’d seemed impossible as that summit, a year ago, dragged out and the differences between the two sides seemed too wide to bridge.

But they’d done it, at the eleventh hour. And now they were back again, to argue over the wrongs that tore the hard-won agreement to pieces.

Alder’s speeder stopped near the front of the courtyard. He was greeted by a small security entourage and heard camera shutters clicking as he emerged from his speeder. Reporters, cordoned off from the far side of the courtyard, shouted questions as he walked into the Galactic Hall. There would be time for talking later.

His attire for the day was simple but stately. A dark grey suit cut by one of Alderaan’s finest tailors, with a matching vest and tie in the blue of the Supreme Chancellor’s office. He wore the same two-sided cufflinks he’d worn to the Archeri Summit, bearing the seal of the Galactic Republic on one side and the winged spear of his office on the other.

“Sir, we everything is ready for the proceedings to begin.” Myn Merasska, the Republic’s lead attorney on the case, greeted him as he entered the Hall. She was short, dark of skin and hair with chestnut-colored eyes. She turned to lead as if there was no question the Supreme Chancellor would follow. “If you’ll come with me for a final review...”

---

Nearly two hours later, the doors to the Galactic Court, nestled in Hall’s heart, swung wide to admit the Galactic Republic’s legal team. The big courtroom was stuffed, with those loyal to the Empire sitting on one side, and those loyal to the Republic seated on the other. Alder spotted a few Jedi among the crowd — he’d extended invitations to Grandmaster Moho and Battlemaster Vyshaan, as well as what other members of the council could attend, and was pleased to see some Jedi presence.

Still, they were observers, as was he. The Republic’s legal team would do the heavy lifting, and the same held true for their Imperial counterparts. Alder took his seat at the front, behind the Republic’s team, and waited for the tribunal to arrive.

The imposing bench — a mammoth of dark wood that curved around in a semicircle — sat unoccupied. The tribunal of Zexx judges had yet to arrive but was due to soon.

That the Republic had fired on Sith vessels was not in question. Anyone in the room would admit to that much. Today, and in the days that followed, they would determine whether the Empire had the right to punish the accused officers, as Renata demanded, or if they were to remain Republic custody.

The decision — whatever it was, whenever it came — could save them from a war or very well ignite another. For all the spectacle that surrounded the proceedings, Alder didn’t need to be a Jedi to feel the tension in the air; it was thick enough to cut with a knife.

The words, when they came from a muscular Zexx bailiff standing watch behind the bench, rolled over the silence in the room like thunder.

“All rise.”

[Meira]

"Your Radiance, please! Show mercy!"

The man fell to his knees, reaching for the hem of her dress. Renata did not move as he lightly touched his fingertips to the fabric, face all but pressed to the floor of the reception chamber. She permitted him to grovel a moment longer, before reaching one thin hand down. That hand touched the crown of his head and the man froze, breath held in anticipation. After a moment, she removed her hand and he lifted his face, eyes tracking upward until they met the brilliant, electric blue of her own. He dared only gaze into them for a moment before averting his eyes, bringing his hands up to cover his face.

"You showed mercy." Renata said, folding her hands in her lap. "You have a gentle heart, Cassus."

Duke Fah's hands fell to his lap, head drooping. "It was my hope to bring others into the light of Your Radiance." he replied, voice soft and weak. "I seek only to expand the Empire."

"A noble cause." Renata said, standing and causing Duke Fah to scramble to his feet as well. "But ill-timed, and poorly executed."

"I can stop them. I swear it! If I could only have-"

Renata lifted her hand, silencing the man in an instant. She gestured and Fah moved back and to the side in sync with the movement. Lifting her other hand, Renata reached out with the Force, opening the chamber door. She then beckoned the figure beyond to enter. The click of heels filled the silence of the reception chamber as the stately form of Kaira Fah resolved from the shadows of the corridor beyond. Her elegant features were placidly neutral as she moved to the center of the room and knelt.

"You Radiance," she said, lifting her hands, palms upward before her bowed head, "I thank You for the honor of receiving me. How might I serve Your will?"

"Rise, dear Kaira, come." Renata replied, motioning her forward. She made a similar gesture for Cassus, indicating that he should stand beside his sister. When both were in position, Renata continued. "The peace of Our Empire has been disturbed on Balamak. The folly of her steward has allowed disquiet to fester into dissent. This cannot be permitted. It is Our desire that Our subjects be reintegrated into the fold under new leadership."

Both Cassus and Kaira lifted their eyes. The former did so in fear, sharp and sudden. The latter with a jolt of exquisite desire. Renata smiled as the unique mixture these emotions caused in the Force. She pulled it to herself, savoring it as she breathed deep. Renata then gestured to Kaira, beckoning her forward again. Kaira's hesitation was faint, but her ambition was stronger. She stepped up bringing herself only one level lower than Renata, and within arms reach. Renata lifted both hands to the woman's face, lifting it so that their eyes met. She smiled at the woman, and Kaira smiled back. The grin was almost manic as Renata flooded her mind, stoking that ambition into a near frenzy.

"We are certain Our new Duchess of Balamak will set things right once again." Renata reached a hand out to the side. From a table at the edge of the room, a metalic object shot into her grip. Renata pressed this into Kaira's hand. "We must now depart. Do your duty, and then return home. Support has been arranged to go with you."

Renata stepped away then, crossing the chamber toward the door. Behind her, Kaira seemed frozen for a moment as the heady presence of the Empress faded from her mind. When it did, she saw her brother, ashen, with placating hands held out before him in silent plea. She looked down then, into her own hands. As the chamber doors closed behind the Empress, Duchess Kaira tightened her grip on the dagger.

---

Shortly after the arrival of the Republic representatives and legal team, the doors opened once again to admit their counterparts. Two tidy rows of lawyers entered first, taking their place at the front of the Imperial side of the courtroom. Following them, a number of the Imperial Nobility marched in, each in the finery of their respective planets. Then entered four Sith Lords, each selected from the four Cults and bearing their colors and symbols accordingly. Lastly, four of the Adamant Guard stepped in. They were unarmed and entirely symbolic, of course, but appearances were always vital.

Behind them, Renata appeared. The last time she'd graced the Galactic Hall, she wore a gown befitting the benevolent and selfless gesture of working with the Republic to stop the advancing Archeir Chorus. But now, she came as an Empress prepared to do what must be done against an even more cunning foe. Her dress, a deep crimson, was close fitting and fell to mid-calf where sturdy black leather boots could be seen. A form fitting leather jacket was worn over the dress, black and with sleeves that reached her wrists. The front was closed, but stopped at her waist, showing the skirt of her dress underneath. It extended down at her sides and around behind her, stopping at the same length as the dress. She wore a cape, also the same length, that was fastened by a chain that circled from her left shoulder to under her her right arm. This chain was clasped by a large red stone with a sunburst pattern of gold lines radiating outward from it. The cape was a brilliant crimson. Her fiery hair was bundled in an intricate series of braids and laid over her right shoulder. A simple, golden circlet with another large red stone crowned her head, woven into her braids. She moved along the center aisle until she came to the place prepared for her. She moved toward the adorned chair, but did not yet sit. Across the aisle, her eyes found the Supreme Chancellor.

"All rise."

Renata turned her gaze forward as the sounds of bodies moving to their feet filled the courtroom. Behind the dark wood of the enormous bench, an ornate door opened and the Zexx judges entered the room. All were silent as they moved toward their seats. They took their places and paused a moment. In that moment, Renata sat herself down, moments before the judges themselves sat and the audience was granted permission to do so as well.

"The Court of Arbitration, so delineated in the Prazhi Peace Accords of 1404 AHW, is hereby called into session." the Premiere Justice declared, tapping an ornate stone orb on its block. "The Bailiff will read the Decree."

At those words, the Zexx Bailiff stepped forward, holding up a datapad.

"Whereas the Galactic Republic, herein referred to as The Republic, and the Sovereign Sith Empire, herein referred to as The Empire, resolve to enter into negotiations to cease aggressions between and unto either party and;

Whereas both The Republic and The Empire find it agreeable to pursue peaceful diplomatic relations and;

Whereas...."

[Fromikeable]

Rain pattered against the window panes in a stubborn display of the early morning. It clung to the city as the sun threatened to rise behind it, a desperate attempt to have its piece before the star cast it aside. No sounds dared to contend with it; the Galactic District’s traffic had been cleared by a far more potent decree than weather.

There was only Horst, the Zexx guards, a chosen few Republic officers, the accused, and the many, many starfighters that made up their escort. And, of course, deafening silence.

The only true communication within the prison ship was in the faces of all aboard. The Zexx remained professionally stalwart, only occasionally observing their counterparts. The accused officers kept still in their cells, each dressed in grey jumpsuits labelling their names and numbers, each cuffed by the hands and arms to the floor. A few shot up the occasional glance, some eyes wide and sullen, others under knit brows.

The Republic officers shot them back, their eyes equally mixed. Unlike their incarcerated fellows, they shuffled. They patted their hands on their sides. They fidgeted with the hems of their dress uniforms and exchanged looks and, especially as the ship began to descend, pulled their caps tighter.

Horst just stood with his arms crossed, scowling at Smarcan’s cell. And she scowled back.

---

”...whereas the accused and their futures are to be solely entrusted to the Court of Arbitration;

Whereas any sentences thus delivered shall be final international law;

Whereas the Court of Arbitration and its decisions shall be extended the same protections and entrustments as given the planet of Prazhi by both parties;

Whereas Justice Gerth, Justice Muxim, Justice Hyor, Justice Benzt, and Premiere Justice Firx are presiding.”

Lowering the datapad, the Zexx Bailiff extended an arm toward the same door the judges had emerged from.

”Bring out the accused.”

The entire courtroom shuffled to turn as the ornate door opened again. The procession began with a squad of armed Zexx guards, their armors polished and sleek, their weapons held as they moved in disciplined synchronization. Behind them came the prisoners single file, each flanked on either side and separated by another guard. Fifteen defendants in total made the slow march forward, followed by the small group of Republic officers, each similarly flanked by Zexx. Last came Horst, reaching the front of the courtroom as the accused came to stand in a line facing the Justices. Behind him came the final group of guards, the ornate doors shutting behind them with a tremoring boom.

As silence engulfed the room again, the Bailiff raised his voice. ”General Chief of Staff Horst Stellar of the Republic, please step forward and deliver the defendants.”

Taking two careful steps forward, Horst motioned at the row. ”The Galactic Republic hereby surrenders the following individuals to the Court of Arbitration.” Reading aloud the full names and ranks of each, Horst’s face only hardened with each. By the time he reached Smarcan at the end, his brow was knit again, looking up at the Bailiff and the Justices with what was clearly a displeased expression.

”They are accepted into the Court’s custody. The custodians of the Republic are hereby requested to takes their seats.” As the prisoners were deposited one by one at their seats to the side, Horst was the last of the Republic officers to exit through the waist-level swinging door into the audience. Giving the court a last squint, he lingered just long enough for one of the Zexx guards to motion for him.

Begrudgingly, he followed the instruction, exiting the court proper. Turning quickly into the first row, he locked eyes with Alder as he passed before taking his seat.

The Bailiff turned and walked forward to the bench. Handing the Premiere Justice their datapad, they came to stand just off to the side of the bench between the Justices and the accused. The legal teams at both the Republic and Imperial tables began to shuffle holopads as the Premiere Justice cleared their throat, activating the holopad.

”We begin with the charges. The defendants are hereby accused of the following;

Seven hundred and thirty eight counts of murder in the first degree;

Five hundred and seventy two counts of attempted murder in the first degree;

Twenty three counts of…”

[Rugs]

Two Weeks Later

Evening sunlight spilled through Garrallch Firx’s judicial chambers. The old Zexx frowned, heave arms crossed over his broad chest. “So we are agreed then?” His sharp gaze turned to his fellow judges. Together, they comprised the Galactic Court’s tribunal. “There is no going back, once this ruling is issued.”

They three, and their two fellow justices, had ruled on some matters between the Republic and Empire before, as the Peace of Prazhi gave them authority to do. But those had been minor. Shipping disputes, questions of the treaty’s limits that naturally arose with any legal document.

No case ever bore the weight of the one sitting before them. Not even close.

“What other answer can there be?” Oona Hyor spoke now. Her voice was strong, if reedy. They were old, all of them, with nearly a millennium of life between them. “We’ve spent day and night in the laws, together and apart. They are very clear on this.”

“They are very clear in what they do not say.” Now Aximili Muxim spoke. He was the oldest among them — more than four-hundred years old — though Garrallcha held the court’s chief position. His thick tusks curved downward from his wide face. The end of the left tusk was chipped away. Aximili always claimed it was a memento from a fight in his youth. It was hard for Garrallch to picture the placid justice as a firebrand, but he’d supposedly been just that, in his youth.

“To rule otherwise would be to err.” The old justice placed a hand atop the thick stack of papers between them, for emphasis. It was their ruling — itself nearly 200 pages long, with hundreds more in supporting documents pulled from the dense codes of both governments. Digital copies existed, to be distributed to both teams, but for a matter of this magnitude, the old ways seemed best. “This is the only sound decision before us.”

“It could spark a conflict,” Garrallch offered, gaze even between the two.

“Any decision we reach here may bring conflict, Garrallch.” Oona was speaking now. “Any case before us, no matter how innocuous, could shatter this fragile peace. We all knew this when we took the role.”

Garrallch eyed Aximili. The old judge was nodding emphatically. Justices Jix Gerth and Agnook Benzt, both joining via hologram from their own offices, nodded agreement. Good. There could be no doubts, no second-guessing. “Very well,” he said. “Then our decision is final.”

---

If the tension within the courtroom on the trial’s opening day felt thick enough to cut with a knife, Alder suspected the evening’s mood would require a heavy mining laser. The tribunal had reached a decision. The word came out nearly a half-hour ago, setting the Galactic Hall into a frenzy.

He emerged into the courtroom, talking under his breath to General Stellar. The place was stuffed and buzzing with a low murmur. A heavy security presence, maintained by Prazhi, had been brought in. Zexx guards lined back wall, armed with weaponry of a traditional and — for the Court’s Force-wielding guests — sonic nature. Whatever the ruling, whatever came of it, there’d be no violence in the Galactic Hall.

Time dragged on. Each second felt like a minute as they waited for the tribunal to reconvene. A week of hard arguing from both sides. A week of tortuous waiting, as the judges weighed their arguments, all come to this.

Alder spotted Empress Renata as they waited. He offered a polite nod of the head — an acknowledgment from afar — and returned his gaze to the empty bench before them. He’d not yet taken the chance to speak with the Empress — there just hadn’t been time. He suspected that was soon to change.

“All rise.”

---

Garrallch was the last of the five to return from the judicial chambers, bearing the heavy stack of paper under his arm. His eyes swept over the crowd — politicians, Jedi, Sith, lawyers — standing, waiting to hear the court’s decision. Smarcan and her co-conspirators waited, cuffed, at the front, on the near side of a waist-high wall that separated the legal teams from the onlookers.

“You may all be seated,” Garrallch said, bass voice carrying over the crowd as he himself sat.

“The matter before us these past two weeks is of grave concern to this Court, and to the greater Galaxy beyond,” he began, hands folded over the papers before him. “It is troubling — deeply, profoundly troubling — to see that one of the nations represented here would turn on the other, knowing the threat to us all that we’d only just escaped. Knowing the firestorm such action could unleash upon the Galaxy.” Garrallch’s thick, hairless brow furrowed as he frowned at the accused before him. If the question before them had been a different one.

“Over the past week, this Court has spent countless hours studying the legal codes both of these fine legal teams have raised — the codes of the Galactic Republic, of the Sovereign Sith Empire, and of the Joint Military Operations Command, established here nearly one year ago.” Garrallch’s voice remained even, his gaze unwavering as he spoke.

“By the laws of both the Galactic Republic and Sith Empire, training and, especially, discipline their militaries fall to their leadership. Under the Joint Military Operations Command charter, while there was some shared command, yes, matters of discipline likewise fell to each respective nation.”

Murmurs rippled through the courtroom. Garrallch fell silent as the bailiff shot hard, warning looks to those responsible, stilling them to silence.

There was no turning back now. They’d stepped over the edge and were in freefall now, together. He drew breath and continued.

“While we acknowledge that the Republic erred its actions — that the accused before this Court have recklessly thrown the lives of untold billions into peril — so too do we find that those responsible must be held accountable through the legal mechanisms in place within the Galactic Republic itself.” Garrallch’s thick fingers wrapped around his gavel’s stem. “As such, it is the ruling of this Court that the accused are to remain in Republic custody.”

The bang of the gavel broke the silence like a gunshot.

[Meira]

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

The Receiving Hall was empty. The slow beat of her nails against the wood armrest was the only sound in the heavy silence. Her eyes, electric blue, stared into the middle distance. The sunlight was retreating from the windows, leaving the corners of the room in shadow. It had been full half an hour before. Nobles, Dark Lords, hopeful allies and merchants seeking exclusive contacts. Carrion birds, the lot of them. She'd sent them all away. Even her guard was dismissed from her sight.

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

"Why now?" she growled, jaw tightening as she looked over the message on the datapad she held in her lap. The report had started a day or two before, and she'd ordered for regular updates. A part of her knew the answer, or an answer, at least. She didn't like it. She'd have to get out ahead of it. But how?

Ping.

Renata looked back down at the screen. It was the only interruption she would permit. The judges had reached a decision and the court would be reconvening soon. Renata closed her eyes, breathing deep and reaching out through the Force. The immediate area of the Galactic Hall was a chaotic swirl conflicting auras. The Jedi and Sith waged no physical war on Prazhi, but wherever the two came into close proximity, it threw the Force into a frenzy. In that confusion, the future was difficult to see. In spite of this, Renata had felt a growing tension over the week of deliberation. She knew, to her core, that no good would come to her out of Prazhi. And yet she'd set her course, and she had to follow through. There would be blood, of that much she was certain. But whose was still the question. And now he had come to torment her as well. She stood, smoothing her dress and squaring her shoulders. That heavy silence of the Receiving Hall absorbed the clack, clack of her heels and the gentle hum of the door opening and closing behind her before settling once again.

Taking her place once again in the courtroom, Renata noted Alder's nod, but did not return it. Instead, she turned her eyes with all the rest toward the entering judges. Once again, Renata sat herself just before the room was given permission to do so. There was little rhetoric. The Zexx courts, the Galactic Court in particular, was famous for succinct rulings, absent any flowery prose. So quick, in fact, was the delivery, that it took several seconds after the fall of the gavel for the murmured reactions of the crowd to begin.

In those seconds, Renata's mantra was control. As the nobles of the various systems of her Empire rose to their feet, faces red and fingers waving, Renata breathed. As the Dark Lords representing the Four Cults of the Sith Order eyed their Jedi foes, Renata seethed. As the Imperial lawyers began to argue with their Republic counterparts, Renata rose to her feet. Like a ripple moving outward from her, voices stopped and eyes turned. The Imperial subjects present in the courtroom all stopped, turning toward their Empress. Renata, lifting her chin, spoke not a word. Her eyes moved across the bench, landing on each judge for a moment, before she turned. Bodies moved, parting a way for her as she exited the courtroom. No glance was spared for the Supreme Chancellor. Not now. Not today. Not if the peace was to stand.

[Fromikeable]

Horst checked his chronometer. He looked to the door. He looked to the defendants, lined up again in their box. He turned around and looked at the Republic military’s entourage. He turned to his side and looked at Alder.

He checked his chronometer again. 40 seconds.

Just get it over with. Whispering a silent thanks as the grand doors to the court opened, Horst’s flicking eyes glued themselves to the Justices as they took their seats again, instructing the rest of the room to do the same. As the Chief Justice cleared their throat, Horst squinted, listening carefully.

To their credit, the Zexx were short, sweet, and to the point. As the decree rolled off the Zexx’s lips and the gavel smacked, Horst blinked, genuine surprise painted across his face.

He honestly hadn’t expected anything more than favor for the Empire. Not when they could claim to be the victims so easily.

The crescendo of activity following the ruling was tangible. Getting up from his chair as the murmurs began, Horst leapt into action, leveling fingers at his subordinates seated behind himself and Alder and beginning to bark soft orders. Without another thought, he was leading a small contingent of them toward the court’s floor, talking to the Zexx guards there as much with his loud whispers as his animated hands to begin sorting out the retransfer of custody.

That’s when silence swept through the room and the Empress stood. When it was pointed out to him, Horst stared up at her with a hard squint, a single thought frozen in his mind and whispered across his lips.

”Is today the day?” Her walking away seemed to answer in the negative, but Horst’s stare lingered.

If not today, then surely soon.

Turning back to the Zexx, Horst and his officers were allowed through. As the captains were lead out of the defendant’s box and into a line, Horst cleared his throat.

”As of this moment, you are all court-marshaled by the authority of the Republic Chiefs of Staff. Lieutenant, read ‘em their rights.” Nodding to the Zexx, the assembly of prisoners, Republic officers, and Zexx guards proceeded out the chamber doors as the lieutenant in question read from a holopad, a fading, legal voice trying to speak above the din of an excited court.

[Rugs]

One... two... three... four...

Four heartbeats, Alder counted as a stunned silence fell over the courtroom. Then chaos erupted. Supporters of the Sovereign Sith Empire, faces red and voice raised in ire, sprang to their feet, yelling at the judges, at the Republic’s supporters, at the accused standing at the court’s fore — at anyone or anything that might rightly bear the weight of the furor.

Alder was aware of this, of the commotion spreading like wildfire through the Galactic Court. He paid no mind.

We’ve done it. The gavel’s crack still echoed like thunder in his mind. We’ve won.

Did he feel elation? No, there was nothing to celebrate here, other than that the Court had, in its wisdom, to rule that independent states were responsible for maintaining the discipline of their own militaries. The ruling seemed so mundane on its face that he wondered if in normal times a court would have even bothered to hear such a case.

Yet these times were not normal — far from it.

There was a moment of passing relief — gone as quickly as it arrived — as some tension washed from him. Now comes the hard work. Alder stood calmly. Raw emotion, stretched beyond breaking point by two weeks of endless waiting roiled around him.

And then, quiet.

The Empress took her leave. All eyes watched her, even Alder. She issued no demands, made no threats or declarations. That did not mean none would follow.

As the judges returned their chambers, Alder joined Horst. He spared a thoughtful look for Smarcan and her co-conspirators. Were he a worse man, he’d happily turn them over to the Empire for Renata to flay in front of a giddy crowd on Dromund Kaas or whatever it was she had in mind. Judge Firx was correct in his assessment: these men and women endangered countless lives for a moment of tarnished glory.

For chasing revenge that must now be denied to them, forever.

“General,” Alder said, voice low as he motioned with his head for Horst to follow him, “a word.”

Once the prisoners were led away, Alder led Horst out of a side exit in the courtroom’s front to a room reserved for the Republic’s legal team. A word to the Zexx guard ensured that no one would intrude for the brief moments Alder needed.

“I can’t say I’m not pleased with the results of today’s ruling, Horst, but we’re in dangerous territory now. I want our forces on high alert, immediately. I don’t know what the Empire is planning, but I know they won’t let this go unanswered. Until we can establish contact and get an idea of what they’re thinking...” Alder grunted. Even then, the Empire’s official word might only be trusted so far.

“I know you already know this, but in the meantime, we need to be prepared to get the Smarcan and her friends to trial as quickly as we can. If we can show that they will still face justice, we may yet avert another crisis.” If the Empress was willing to see such reason. She was reasonable, but even she could only hold back a nation’s bloodlust for so long. To say nothing of her own.

“This battle’s won, but we’re not out of this by a long shot.”

Indeed, after navigating the Republic through the fog of arbitration, it seemed they’d emerged to find a hurricane looming over the horizon.